It's Who They Are
by Monkeywand
Summary: "Just please don't say you love me, 'coz I might not say it back." She'll admit it when he least expects it, on her own terms. It's just who she is. And he's happy. It's who they are. Songfic. One-Shot.


**Disclaimer** : Y'all know the drill…

 **A/N** : So this came to me listening to Gabrielle Aplin's _Please Don't Say You Love Me_. Totally fell in love with the song. Started writing this out as ambiguous but Castle popped into my head and wouldn't leave me alone, so here we are. Unbeta-d so all mistakes are mine.

 _Just please don't say you love me,_

' _Coz I might not say it back,_

 _Doesn't mean my heart stops skipping when you look at me like that,_

 _There's no need to worry when you see just where we're at._

It's Who They Are

She stares out the window letting her mind wander. She's torn. She always is with him. On one hand she wants to yell at him, tell him to go away and to leave her alone. But on the other hand, she can't imagine how she go on without him. The annoying grown up child that he is. He's helped her, changed her and she wonders if it's for the better.

Sometimes she wonders where she'd be if he hadn't interfered, hadn't stuck his nose, his fingers into things he had no right to touch. She wonders if she'd still be the same person she was before, the one that focused solely on the task at hand, her whole life revolving around work, eating little, sleeping less.

She wonders sometimes if she still would be here. It wasn't like she was reckless, but it was almost like she didn't care. Not about the job, that she did care about, but about her own life. If a stray bullet had taken her back then, would she have fought to stay alive, or would she have just given in?

She mentally shakes her head. Now it's all different. She's proven that. She'd taken a bullet and survived. She know it has to be his doing. He's shown her the brighter side of life. The side she'd thought she'd forgotten about. He'd taught her out to smile again.

* * *

He stands in the doorway just watching. He wonders if she's noticed him yet. Not that he minds. It's not often he gets to observe her this way, totally lost in thought.

He continues to watch her, watch her face, her body in the reflection of the glass. The emotion that plays across her features. Sometimes he can read her. Other times, she's guarded. Her face carefully schooled not to let anything show. The cop face, he calls it.

He realizes then, that it's been a while since she's shown him that face. She's been working on letting him in. That or he's just becoming more apt at reading her. He likes to think it's a little of both.

He can tell the moment he comes to her awareness. She doesn't move but there's almost a subtle stiffness, as if she's guarding herself. It's gone though, in the next moment. Her body relaxes and she turns, giving him one of those priceless smiles he can count on one hand the amount of times he's seen. It's one of those smiles he knows she only gives him. A smile full of promise, of hope, of… Love.

He returns the smile easily, not moving from his position against the doorframe. He doesn't want to ruin the moment, doesn't want it to end.

She pats the seat beside her, telling him it's okay. He moves toward her, his large gait eating up the space between them. He hesitates, but she stands, motioning for him to sit.

He sits behind her carefully, totally placate to her every move. It's new, this touching thing they're doing. The small touches here and there at work don't count. They've become a part of everyday life.

She was never a huggy person. Almost as if showing emotion was a sign of weakness. Not that he thinks she's weak. Quite the opposite. He's seen the strength behind those eyes, behind the unwavering voice as she barks out commands, even when she's hurt. He knows.

She sits, partially in his lap, partially on the chair, totally snuggled in his arms. He shifts, bumping her out and she's disappointed but he's pulling her back, settling her in the v of his legs, his arms wrapping around her middle, his chest pressing completely up against her back. Something in her relaxes, as if she were holding her breath unconsciously. This is better.

He runs one hand up and down her forearm, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her bare skin. She shivers. This is the stuff she lived for now. These moments of peace, of being together.

"I love you," he says, breaking the silence. His voice reverberates though her body making her insides clench. She wants to stiffen, to pull away, but his arms are conveniently wrapped around her, boxing her in. Normally should would fight harder, but she knows at some point she has to give in, to accept what her heart has been telling her all along.

She hums back at him, not willing to say the words, but he knows. She'll admit it when he least expects it, on her own terms. It's just who she is. And he's happy.

It's just who they are.

 _Just please don't say you love me,_

' _Coz I might not say it back…_

Lemme know what y'all think.

Monkeywand


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